I Am Phantom (2 page)

“Now,
you will fight me.”

I
lost my focus and stepped back. “What?”

Sonam
crouched and brought his hands up. He took a deep breath. “Fight me.”

“No
way. I am not fighting you, Sonam.”

“You
will fight. You will fight or you will fail.”

I
took another nervous step back. I heard the brush of cloth and ducked into a
defensive pose as Sonam’s fist missed.

“No
one is here but us and a few students. Not your friends. Not your parents. They
will not always be by your side when you are in trouble. It must be you, and
only you, that defends yourself and what you love.”

I
had no choice but to fight as his attacks continued.

Sonam’s
movements were perfect, his strikes fast, his face a mask of serenity. My brain
kicked into overdrive as I blocked.

I
caught his arm in a cross block and spun away. He followed, sweeping my legs. I
leapt, flipped, just out of reach of his next attack. My Parkour was naturally
working its way into my movements.

“Good.
Adapt!” Sonam encouraged. “Do not think. Let what is natural take over.”

Out
of the corner of my eye I saw some more monks appear. Most of them had
confused, somewhat excited looks. They had probably never seen an actual fight
before, and especially not between Sonam and me.

Sonam
shoved me back. My eyes followed each of his movements, adjusting my body
accordingly, finding the best way to block, strike, to close the space between
us and counter. Dust kicked up into the air as our feet slid around one
another.

 
I counted the times I could have won,
edging my way in and getting a strike off. There were too many openings. But I
wasn’t about to do that to Sonam. Not to the man who still saw me as normal
instead of some freak. Not even if it meant failing in his eyes.

 
Sonam’s arms were a whirlwind as I dodged
right. Back and forth we went. Upper block, snake technique, lean back and
strike. It was almost like a dance. I concentrated on breathing, hearing only
the slap of fists and the snap of cloth against the backdrop of the high
monastery walls.

Suddenly
I surged forward. Sonam bent backwards to dodge my punch until his back almost
touched the floor. He struck my stomach and I fell on my back, my breath coming
in short gasps.
       

What
a pretty sky.

Sonam’s
wise face appeared over me. Not the serious Sonam that had just destroyed me,
but the aged, kind and patient one who had put up with my antics and talked
with me and counseled me almost as much as my parents.

“I
lost,” I said. Sonam pulled me up. I saw a little disappointment in his eyes.
He knew I hadn’t tried my hardest.

“You
have triumphed,” he finally said.

“But
I lost.”

“But
you stood strong under the circumstances. How could you foresee that a peaceful
monk wanted to fight? You cannot always see the true intentions of others. You
didn’t have a choice. You won’t always have a choice. Sometimes you see an
injustice and you must do something about it, though you don’t always know why
you feel that way. You may face an opponent you cannot beat. But still, you
stand strong. That is all a man can do, physically or not, he can stand his
ground.”

He
closed his eyes and stood like a statue.

I
rubbed my stomach. “So…” I said. “Did I pass?”

The
smile crept back on Sonam’s stoic face. “What do you think?”

“Yes?”

“Yes.
Now go finish packing.”

What
few things I actually wanted to take to college were all packed. I double and
triple checked my room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. It wasn’t like
I could drive on back and get it if I did.

I
was finally going, and who knew how long it would be before I saw my old home
again. This time tomorrow I would be out of the country, almost eight thousand
miles away.

The
letter from Queensbury University sat on my desk and I grabbed it. I hadn’t
lied to Sonam: I was going to Queensbury University.

But
I had never sent for the pamphlet. I had never even applied there. But I had
gotten in anyway, on a scholarship no less.

I
remember at first thinking it was a joke when I read the letter explaining
about moving in and campus activities. There was no way I had gotten a
scholarship. They must have gotten the wrong kid.

Then
the note had fluttered out. It was handwritten. I remember my hands shaking as
I read it.

You think you’re a freak.
You are going through things that your friends and family could never
understand. But I do. I am like you. I am different.

 
If you want answers, come to Queensbury.

Find me.

L.S.

A
soft tap on my door snapped me back to the present. I tossed the pamphlet on my
bed and answered it. Nobody was there. I looked left and right. The hollow
halls were empty.

I
went to close the door and my foot bumped something. A folded robe had been
left for me. I took it inside.

It
was a robe just like Sonam wore. Beautifully woven and intricate, a deep
crimson. The fabric was tough and yet almost silky. It had no sleeves. A note
fluttered out from one of the folds.

To Drake, for whatever the
future may bring. May this remind you of where you will always have a home, and
where you will always be welcome. Never forget who you are.

                                                                       
Sonam

Sonam
had always been uplifting. He was a monk, they were kind of expected to be like
that. But his fixation with losing my way was making me paranoid. I put the
note down and, checking that nobody was watching, held the robe close. It felt
of home and everything I loved here. I was sure everything would turn out fine,
and I hoped it would, more than anything else in the world.

Chapter
Two

Brave
New World

I’ll
spare you the sentimental details of how I said goodbye to my parents. How my
dad was crying and my mom wouldn’t stop hugging me. Yes I was going to keep in
touch and yes I would stay healthy and of course I would study hard. Sonam
wasn’t there to see me off. The other monks told my parents that he was deep in
fasting and prayer and couldn’t be disturbed. That sucked. He was the only besides
my folks who was supposed to be there.

A
man from the village had a car and agreed to drop me off at Paro airport.

I
cannot see myself having a lifelong relationship with airplanes. I was as
prepared as I could be for something that massive. And metal. And loud.

I’d
seen plenty of airplanes, but never been inside one. I’m not going to be all
tough and pretend like it didn’t faze me. This thing was nice. I took my seat
near the back and waited until everybody else filed in and the doors closed.

Then
we took off…and the ground shrank until I could barely see it under us, which
shouldn’t have been a problem but for some reason it was here…That’s when I
started to kind of panic. My chest got all tight and my head felt light and
dizzy. Were my ears supposed to feel this pressured? Were the wings supposed to
shake that much?

I
leaned forward and put my head between my legs to feel better. The man sitting
next to me shot me a concerned glance from behind his magazine.

“You
okay, son?”

I
was in no state to answer.

“Here,
use one of these.” He grabbed a small bag in the back of the seat in front of
us and handed it to me. I could only stare at it in my mind-numbed state.

“What—what
is this for—?” And then I found out. My stomach churned and the man’s
eyes widened.

“Open
the bag! Quick!” He scooted as far over in his seat as he could as I fumbled
with the bag and people turned and stared at us.

I
hate flying.

We
stopped once in Beijing and honestly, I don’t remember most of it. After I
finished splashing water on my face in the bathroom, a flight attendant gave me
some medicine she said would help and I passed out. Thankfully, my transfer was
on the same plane or I wouldn’t have made it. I didn’t come around until an
hour before we landed in North Carolina and by then I stared straight ahead
until we touched down.

The
minute the plane came to a stop at the gate I practically shoved past everyone
to get off. I almost wished I hadn’t. I’m not completely oblivious to
technology. Living in a village a little more secluded from the bigger cities
did make it difficult to stay up to date on the latest advances, but it wasn’t
like I was a caveman being exposed to the marvels of electricity for the first
time.

People
scurried like ants all over the place, grabbing bags and drinking coffee and
rolling suitcases. That wasn’t anything new, but this was…different than what I
was used to. A different flavor of chaos. The noise never stopped. The air was
chilly and my legs stiff and sore from the plane. I stood at the exit ramp of
the plane with my mouth wide open until some guy behind me bumped my shoulder
and said, “Move it.”

I
did just that and made my way out. My overloaded brain began to process everything
and I had the sense to read the signs hanging above the walkway. I followed the
one that pointed to the baggage claim.

Everything
became a little simpler after that. I found my bag on a rotating circus ride
looking thing and grabbed it before it could disappear again. I made sure
nothing was missing and wandered my way out onto the street where there was
supposed to be a shuttle from Queensbury picking me up. I must have stood on
the side of the road looking like an idiot for twenty minutes.

Finally
the shuttle arrived.

“You
the university kid?” The driver asked, coming down the steps. I said I was and
while he tossed my suitcases in the back I found a seat inside. It was a tiny
shuttle and there was only one other kid on it, near one of the windows, his
face stuck in a laptop. He looked up as I took the window seat across from him.

Honestly,
this kid looked more out of place than I felt. He had thick glasses with badly
uncombed brown hair. A crooked nose and watery eyes made him look like he might
have pressed his face up against his laptop for too long. I also didn’t think
kids my age usually wore a three-piece suit complete with a bowtie when they
were moving to college.

The
driver came back in, started the shuttle and pulled in to traffic. I extended a
polite hand to the other kid.

“I’m
Drake Sinclair. I just flew in from Bhutan.”

“Matt.”
He didn’t take my hand.

“Pleased
to meet you too,” I said.

          
Matt leaned up in his seat and said to the driver, “I thought you said I
was going to be the only one you were picking up.”

The
driver gave Matt a funny look in the rearview mirror before changing lanes.
“Nope.”

Wow.
Five minutes in and this kid was making a wonderfully horrible first
impression. I shrugged and busied myself with staring out the window.

We
hit the highway and drove past some small subdivisions that eventually tapered
off to the countryside. The leaves were lightly splashed with orange and red. I
noticed Matt occasionally glancing at me. Finally he said, “How long did you
live there?”

Was
he actually talking to me? “Where?”

“Bhutan.”

“My
whole life,” I said.

“And
you’re coming to America for college?”

“Yeah.
For Psychology.”

“You
do know Queensbury isn’t known for psychology, right?”

“Yes,”
I said, refraining from adding a ‘duh’ on the end.

The
shuttle pulled off the highway. We passed cornfields and a lot of flat land. I
missed the rolling hills of Bhutan but a moment later we entered a more
mountainous area with tall trees and thick greenery encroaching on the road.

Matt
watched me as though waiting for all this change to send me into raging
convulsions. I really didn’t want to get snapped at again but I risked it and
said, “So is this your first visit to Queensbury?”

Matt
shook his head. I took that as progress. “And…are you excited to go?” I
ventured.

Matt
shrugged. “It’s a junky city other than the university,” he said.

I
decided to leave it at that.

The
contrast between the countryside we had been driving through and Queensbury was
startling. One minute we passed cows and red barns and the next we were at a
street corner surrounded by skyscrapers.

Queensbury
was pretty big. Not quite as big as New York City, which I’d seen pictures of,
but I could definitely imagine myself getting lost in it. A lot.

And
just like that, we were dwarfed by the buildings. The atmosphere was tangible, but
not exactly like the buzzing busy hum of the airport. The feeling here was in
the crevices and alleyways, a primal, hungry energy. It was terrifying and
exhilarating, and there was so
much
.
So many towering buildings and shops, things to climb, things to conquer. I had
explored every inch of where I’d lived in Bhutan. The anticipation of the
unknown made me want to do the same here.

And
somewhere in that iron jungle was a man (Or woman) who had answers for me. Now
that I was actually here the task seemed even more daunting and I realized how
incredibly stupid I had been. What had I expected, that whoever wrote the note
would just walk right up and introduce themselves? There was an entire city and
I had to find one person. Like me, granted, but still one person.

I
didn’t have too much time to worry about it. Something was wrong as we
approached the school. Red and blue lights flashed in our car and I heard the
driver swear quietly under his breath and take a sharp turn away from the lights.
I looked past Matt and out the window. A dozen police stood around an abandoned
building, one of them diverting traffic away from entrance and down another
road. I thought I saw bullet holes peppering the brick behind the police tape.

“Wonder
if it’s that psycho,” Matt muttered under his breath. Then he noticed I was
looking out towards the sirens too and quickly stuck his face back in his
laptop.

“Psycho?”
I asked.

Matt
wouldn’t reply.

“This
is it,” the driver said, pulling the shuttle to stop outside of an arched
building somewhere near the middle of the Queensbury campus. “Everybody off.” I
looked out the window and read ‘Queensbury Welcome Center’ across the top of
the building. I got out and took a deep breath. Once again I caught Matt
looking at me as though waiting for me to collapse at any second. I made a face
at him.

I
followed Matt into the air-conditioned welcome center. I didn’t expect him to
stick around and, sure enough, a group of science looking kids picked him up
and led him away without a second glance. Bye, I guess.

A
bubbly blond girl materialized next to me almost as fast as Matt had left. “You
must be new!” she said cheerfully. I looked around to make sure she wasn’t
talking to somebody else. A five-year-old, maybe.

“That’s…why
I’m in the welcome center,” I said. The girl beamed and grabbed my arm. “I’m
here to give you the tour. Put your bags in the cart over there and tell the
driver which dorm you’re staying at. He’ll get them there.”

“What
if I don’t know which dorm?”

“You’re
a freshman, right? Freshman stay in McMinn Hall. Hurry up, everybody else is
ready.” I spotted a group of parents and students huddled around the exit door.
I put my bags away and followed blondie to the group.

Every
kid had parents with them. Was that normal? I thought college was when the
students left their parents and struck out on their own. At least that’s what I
was doing. Either way, it felt weird being the only kid who wasn’t with an
adult. For the first time since I had left I felt a small twinge of loneliness.
What were my parents doing right now? The villagers would be out fishing and
the market would be in full swing. I could envision my parents and Sonam
talking and laughing together like they usually did. I wanted to speak to them
so badly, just to hear their voices, but they were there and I was here. I took
a deep breath. No point in worrying about it now. I would make the best of it.

I
followed the group out the door and blondie started spewing off facts about the
school.

“I’m
so glad you’re all here for move-in day and thank you so much for making Queensbury
the gateway to your future! Queensbury University was obviously named after the
city of Queensbury, the oldest city settled in this area. There’s a wide range
of majors here—”

I
zoned out after a little while. She was practically a human version of the
pamphlet I’d read about the school. We were all moving in so she didn’t need to
sell us on it again.

The
narrow walkway opened to a wide lawn. Classical architecture was the décor of
choice for most of the buildings. The campus was way bigger than I thought it
would be. It took us ten minutes to cross what I think was half of the school,
but we still passed four gyms, five dining halls, three dorms, and probably two
buildings where you actually learned things.

“Stop!”
Blondie shrieked, jolting me out of my comatose state.

She
sprinted over and shoved me onto the sidewalk. She pointed to my right foot,
which had apparently been stepping on the grass.

“The
biggest rule here is we never, ever step on the grass. Many years ago the
school’s founder’s remains were lost somewhere on campus and it wasn’t until
1989 that they were found and reburied there.” She pointed to a white headstone
set in the center of the park beside us. “We never walk on the grass for fear
of treading on him.”

“But
you just said his remains are right there,” I said. “We can see him.” I made to
step on the grass again but Blondie pushed me back and flashed another
blindingly white smile.

“It’s
tradition.”
“Even if it’s stupid?”

Blondie’s
smile faltered but somebody behind me snorted. “Stay off the grass.” She
brushed her hair back and returned to the front of the group. I made a mental
note to step on the grass as much as possible when people weren’t looking as a
form of rebellion.

“It
is pretty stupid,” a boy said. “But then, what’s the fun of traditions if they
were rational?” I turned to see who was speaking, tagging a little ways behind
the group like me. He was unhealthily slender and a little hunched, sporting a buzz
cut and a single stud in his ear. His jeans were in tatters like he had rolled
in barbed wire with them.

“I
guess that’s what they do, though. Brainwash you into loving the school.” He
extended a bony hand. I took it. His grip was firm despite his skinniness.
“Cody John Brown. But my friends call me Cody.” He smiled to show that it was a
joke, then took a quick glance around me. “You don’t have your folks with you?”